


Don't Argue

by SupercityCarnival



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27375376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupercityCarnival/pseuds/SupercityCarnival
Summary: Based on a prompt from moocowmoocow on the Tumblr. "Don't argue. Just do it."This was a fun little drabble. I thought of several scenarios for this prompt. Might share another 🙂Aside from voting, this is my contribution to election day. May the odds be ever in our favor.
Relationships: Chrisjen Avasarala & Bobbie Draper, Chrisjen Avasarala/Bobbie Draper
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	Don't Argue

It was a quiet weekend afternoon. It was the first weekend afternoon in weeks with no meetings, no dignitary dinners, and no crisis. It was the perfect afternoon to get some things done around the house. Or, in Chrisjen Avasarala's case, the perfect afternoon to get someone else to get some things done around the house. 

She and her companion were both on the floor in the spacious laundry room. Chrisjen sat with her back leaning against the door frame, happily regaling her company with stories she hadn't told in years. Her legs were extended in front of her on the floor, crossed at the ankles. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to wear a simple blouse and slacks for an entire day. Leaving her typical ornate look behind, Chrisjen had her hair down with only light makeup. There was a tumbler in her hand, about a finger full of amber liquid remaining in it. She was enjoying herself for the first time in what seemed like ages.

Chrisjen's laundry machine had been acting up for about a month. Sure, it would have been easy to get some UN maintenance team to fix it, but Bobbie Draper had insisted on helping. The young woman had diagnosed the problem, researched and ordered the necessary parts, and now here she was, lying on Chrisjen's laundry room floor on her side, working diligently to replace the parts. Bobbie had her own drink on the floor near her. She occasionally sat up to watch Chrisjen tell part of her story and take a sip. 

As Bobbie leaned over to grab another tool, she laughed at what Chrisjen was telling her. 

"You're kidding me," Bobbie said brightly. "Chrisjen Avasarala, covered in mud?" 

Chrisjen chuckled. "It was everywhere," she confirmed. "My arms, my face, inside my clothes." 

"I would've loved to see that." Bobbie grinned as she went back to her side, reaching into the open paneling at the bottom of the machine where she was working. 

With a content hum, Chrisjen said, "I don't remember the last time I told anyone that story." 

"Well, I'm glad you told me." Bobbie spoke as she continued her work. 

Chrisjen watched her with a small smile. She appreciated Bobbie's constant desire to take care of her. Whether it was bringing her a bottle of water during a long meeting, or making sure she took time to eat during the day, or taking point escorting her to more dangerous liaisons with unvetted political figures, Bobbie was always looking out for her. 

After Bobbie had defected to the UN and claimed political asylum, Chrisjen had asked her to join her security team. After much hesitancy and convincing, she had agreed. Now, months later, their tenuous truce had developed into an easy friendship. Chrisjen had never put so much effort into winning someone over before. Part of her wondered why the young Martian was so important to her. Another part of her said not to question the gift she'd been given in Bobbie. 

When Bobbie had offered to fix the machine for her, it caught her slightly off guard. After all, it didn't have anything to do with work and it was the first time she'd had Bobbie at her house in this casual environment. She was surprised at how natural it felt. 

As her companion kept on with her work, Chrisjen allowed her gaze to sweep over the Martian's lean body from her tight pants, up her torso, covered by a loose t-shirt of some band from her home world, to her long dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. However, the part Chrisjen couldn't stop coming back to was the slightest bit of bare midriff that kept being exposed as Bobbie reached underneath the machine. She didn't mean to stare, in fact, she didn't even realize she was doing it until Bobbie sat up again. 

Chrisjen quickly averted her eyes and cleared her throat, but the smirk on Bobbie's face made it clear that she'd been caught. Thankfully, Bobbie let her off the hook. 

"I need your help," she said. 

Looking back at her skeptically, Chrisjen repeated, "Help?" 

"Yeah." Bobbie gave a slight quirk of her perfect lips. "You know, help," she said, mildly sarcastic. 

Chrisjen rolled her eyes. She tilted her glass toward the machine. "I don't do tools."

Her smile growing, Bobbie told her, "Come on, I just need you to hold something for me." She shifted to allow Chrisjen to come closer. 

Not moving, the older woman just looked at her. She tried quickly to think of a reason to avoid being any closer to the Martian, thrown by the idea for some reason. Maybe because all she could focus on was how good Bobbie looked right now. 

"I'll break something," was all Chrisjen could come up with. 

Bobbie's expression softened, like there was something in Chrisjen's countenance that she understood. "No, you won't." Her tone was low and encouraging. "Trust me." 

It sounded like she was talking about something other than the laundry machine, but Chrisjen couldn't fathom what it might be. Bobbie suddenly looked so familiar, like she knew Chrisjen through and through, and Chrisjen couldn't deny the deepening bond between them. 

Still, she resisted the magnetic pull she felt. Her voice barely above a whisper, she said, "I'll only mess you up." 

Leaning toward her, Bobbie replied, "No, you won't." The intimate inflection in her tone gave away that she definitely wasn't talking about the laundry machine anymore. Gazes locked, Bobbie gently said, "Listen, don't argue. Just do it." 

Her confidence and kind manner put Chrisjen at ease. With a last sip, she put her glass down and slid across the floor, close to Bobbie. The Martian laid back down. Taking a small wrench, she reached under the machine. Finding its place, she held it there. Then she looked at Chrisjen and held out her hand. 

A little apprehensive, Chrisjen reached toward her. The young woman's long fingers wrapped around her hand and Chrisjen liked how warm and soft her palm was. It was a simple touch, but it sent a tingle up her forearm nonetheless. Their eyes met again and Chrisjen felt strangely shy. 

Bobbie pulled her closer and Chrisjen didn't oppose the movement. Leaning over Bobbie, she allowed her hand to be led under the washing machine until she felt the handle of the wrench Bobbie was still holding. The proximity was making her anxious. Chrisjen was practically on top of her and she had to consciously school her beating heart. 

"Hold that right there," Bobbie quietly requested. 

Barely audible, Chrisjen said a simple, "Okay." 

Bobbie withdrew her hand and Chrisjen missed the touch instantly. Grabbing a socket wrench, the Martian went to work tightening the last bolt. Chrisjen felt the resistance against the handle and held it securely. As the seconds passed, she found herself relaxing. She took a sideways glance to her companion, watching while she concentrated. 

Then, Bobbie took her hand again. She retrieved the tool and gently brought Chrisjen's hand back to her. Keeping the contact, Bobbie slowly sat up. Though their eyes were locked, Chrisjen felt Bobbie's thumb tenderly stroking the back of her hand. She couldn't believe how something so small stoked so much feeling in her. 

Just before the silence became awkward, Bobbie glanced away and cleared her throat. She scooted a few respectful inches away from Chrisjen. Taking up her glass, Bobbie took a long swallow, and Chrisjen was relieved to see that the closeness seemed to make Bobbie as nervous as it made her. 

"Well," Bobbie exhaled. "That should do it." 

"Thank you," Chrisjen said, giving her a content smile. She picked up her own glass again. 

Both women sat on the floor, backs leaning against opposite walls. They were happy with the rare slow pace of the day and started back up with their easy banter. Staying there until they had sipped the last of their drinks, finally Bobbie rose from her spot. A little disappointed, Chrisjen followed her lead and stood as well.

The move brought them face to face and they both stopped short. Chrisjen let out a tiny gasp and desperately hoped her expression didn't give away the quickening of her pulse. Bobbie's parted lips and bright eyes certainly gave away hers. The realization that whatever was happening inside her was also happening inside Bobbie was reassuring. Her fingertips itched to touch Bobbie's beautiful face.

She held Bobbie's gaze, a small smile forming on her lips until the Martian blushed. 

"Uh." Bobbie blinked and her eyes darted around. "I should, uh." She crouched down to get her tool kit. "I should let you enjoy your afternoon." 

"I'm already enjoying it," Chrisjen quickly responded. 

"Right," Bobbie said with a goofy grin. "Um." 

Chrisjen looked at her, amused. She decided to let Bobbie go, for now. "But I should let you get back to the other things I'm sure you need to do today." 

"Yeah." Bobbie stayed there like her feet were glued to the floor. 

Eventually, Chrisjen stepped aside and Bobbie moved past her. They wandered toward the front door, taking their time. Bobbie opened the door and turned back to Chrisjen. 

"You know, if you need anything else, you can call me." 

Chrisjen grinned at her. "It's an old house. I'm sure I'll take you up on that." 

With a small smile in return, Bobbie told her, "I look forward to it." 

The young woman walked out the door. Chrisjen watched her go for a moment before closing it. Leaning her forehead against the closed door, Chrisjen let out a slow breath. The inevitable conclusion settled on her. She was hopelessly and helplessly attracted to Bobbie Draper.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
